The deed was done. Olive lay on her bed, phone planted on her stomach. The smell of bleach intruded her nostrils. Her blank face masked her fear that her father would find out. Please don't come home soon...stay out just a little longer, just until the bleach smell fades. Her mind was clouded and unclear as she lay on the bed. She sat up and clutched either side of her head, digging her palms into her temples and squeezing her head. Her fingers dug into her scalp, almost enough to draw blood but not quite. Shaking her head from side to side in a violent manner that could swing her eyeballs right out of their sockets, if her eyes hadn't be squeezed shut as tightly as they were. Olive's face began to sting as warm tears trickled from her eyes; starting as a trickle but turning into a stream. The reason for this behavior was unknown to her, a question not answered by her doctors or solved by the cocktails.
Loud, ugly sobs escaped her lips with much aggression. Olive's chest burned with every scream and cry. Her voice beginning to become horse and was slowly fading away to nothing. Her hands were growing weak, looking over them she felt the stinging of her newly red tinted palms. Olive's body gradually became exhausted, but she managed to wrap her arms around herself and cry those last few whimpers.
These covered the nearly silent sound of the door creaking open.
It was a mere creaking at first but once Olive's last cries escaped, it slammed with one quick push, to the wall with a loud CRASH! Footsteps echoed through the room as they frantically approached Olive.
"Olive! Olive, are you ok!" Olive found the strength to open her eyes, puffy and glazed red with a fear stray tears still pouring down her cheeks. "Olive..." The face of Valerie stood before Olive, she was knelt down and was restraining her urge to hug Olive. Valerie looked at her with soft eyes, a look of utter concern on her face. She wimpered at the sight of sympathy, a newfound emotion. Valerie couldn't restrain herself, she wrapped her arms around Olives thin frame. She began crying into the crook of Valerie's neck, until she could cry no more. Her tears were all used up, nothing was coming out of her eyes, only the salty aftermath danced around her cheeks.
Olive never felt this, comfortable before, not with Maggie, not with David, nobody. Nobody made Olive feel this, loved before.
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I'm Gone But You're Still Here
Teen FictionOlive Marianne Parker A girl with blood lust... Her father is dissmissive yet concernced. Anxious yet familiar with the creak of the window signaling his daughter is home. There's a stir, though, when Valerie befriends Olive, a rare sight indeed. H...
